Tomato Soup
by Vampite
Summary: Rochelle wishes he had never drank that dumb can of tomato soup.


Her mother had told her right before she died that the pain won't last for ever. You can't grieve forever, and some day the pain will go away.

She was right. It does get easier. Eventually you stop counting the time without them in minutes. And then you only think about them once a day, perhaps right when you wake up or as your mind is drifting into an escapeful sleep. And then you only think about them once a week, on your date night. And then only once a month, and eventually you only think about them on their birthday.

And then the scariest thing is, you stop thinking about them at all, except when they come back to haunt you in your nightmares.

And eventually, it's like they never even existed.

It had been two years since "the end" of the zombie apocolypse. Six months since she had gone back to her job, and there was no shortage of news to cover now. Every few weeks another small pack of zombies was discovered in some abandoned town, the police were dispatched and they were quickly taken care of. Society was rebuilding.

And she hardly even thought of Ellis anymore.

She knew Coach was doing well, he emailed her every once and a while. He had gone back to teaching, although most parents were still too scared to send their children to school. Nick, she assumed, was ok, although they hadn't spoken since they parted ways.

Ellis had died just over two and a half years ago. And she had tried not to think of him since.

She had visited his grave only once, a year after he had died. His grave was simple and small, engraved with only his name and his date of birth and death. The funeral homes had been busy, overtaken with corpses that still had living relatives, and thousands of unmarked and unnamed graves.

"I miss you, Ellis," she said quietly. "And I wish you were still here so I could thank you."

She would never forget that she was the reason he died. He had died because of her. It was a night quite near their last days fighting the infected, although they didn't know that. To them, it was just another day in an endless life of fighting to survive.

They had been scavenging for food, at a small town supermarket with its windows still intact. She and Ellis had ran in, and were running the food back out to Nick and Coach. And Ellis had spotted one last can on the shelf, a can of dented, dusty tomato soup. He grabbed it as they were running past, and then immediately opened it as soon as they got back to the saferoom.

"My mom used to make soup just like this, y'know," Ellis said, as he cracked the can open. He drank the soup down, hardly stopping to breathe.

Later that night, he started to feel ill. Rochelle had gone back to check on him, huddled in the bathroom on the torn up and cold floor. She had wrapped him in a blanket, kissed him on the forehead, and then went out for her turn on watch for the night.

A couple of hours later, Ellis awoke to a scream. Rochelle's scream. On any normal day, he would have been fine to go out and help her. But he was weak, and not thinking straight. Before Nick could stop him, he was running out of the saferoom in the direction of her scream.

Rochelle started to tear up. If he hadn't eaten that dumb can of soup, if she hadn't screamed because of that stupid little fox, he would still be here. He'd still be ok.

Ellis had come running to her side quickly. Coach was already standing beside her.

"Ro, what's wrong?" Ellis said, leaning over and panting.

"I'm fine. Ellis, we need to get you back to the saferoom-"

"Run!" Coach yelled. Just as Rochelle's scream had attracted Ellis, every zombie in the area was now awake, and knew they were there.

Rochelle and Coach took off running, and Ellis started to stager along behind them. A whole horde was gaining on them fast, but Coach and Rochelle were a good distance ahead. Ellis was getting farther and farther behind.

"Come on Ellis!" Coach yelled, the zombies getting closer.

"We have to fight," Rochelle said to Coach, turning and taking out her gun.

"We can't, there's not time." Coach grabbed her arm, dragging her towards the saferoom.

"We can't just leave him!" Rochelle screamed, resisting Coach's pull. She started to shoot at the zombies quickly approaching Ellis.

"I'll go back for him, don't worry!" Coach said, pushing her into the now open saferoom door. Nick, now awake and holding a shotgun, ran out of the saferoom, and him and Coach turned back for Ellis.

Maybe if Rochelle had followed them he would have survived. But she didn't. And he didn't survive.

She only ever thought of him when she saw the picture of him she kept on her desk at work. When her eyes would wander over, looking at him amongst the pictures of her and her friends, and her boyfriend. And her eyes would lock on that picture of him she had taken from his body after he died, the picture that he always kept in his pocket. Him, and who she assumed was Keith, standing in front of a truck looking as proud as kings.

But that was the only time she thought of him. And the pain did go away.


End file.
